Three

Three months… doc said that he tells everyone to give it three months. Now those three months are up and I am still ye mostly blind in my right eye. I had hoped to be one of the lucky ones. The retinal specialist straight up told me, when pressed at my last visit, that most people don’t get it back.

I might just have to adapt… I get frustrated when I cannot do what I want to do, having a hard go working with little pliers, accidentally reaching next to the object I’m trying to hold, and such. I can no longer read a fast paced book cover to cover in one sitting, and some people like to take advantage of my lack of peripheral vision on that side to sneak by me (mischievous grandchildren) or up on me (playful vet) for their own personal amusements.

I tried to tell the vet what the doc said and got chewed out for thinking negatively. I should put it out of my mind, never speak the words out loud, have faith and flat out refuse to believe the vision loss may be permanent. Why, docs don’t know everything… just look at him. If he listened to VA docs, he’d still be unable to walk. Determination and sheer will… as if I can will my eyesight back.

Speaking of will, that man has decided to police the brownies.

OH. MY. GAWD.

I have binge eating disorder… the last thing I need is someone trying to “help” me lose the few pounds I gained over the holidays. HIS doc wants HIM to drop 15 by June… so when he says, “babe, June is coming… what are you doing with that brownie?” after HE just ate one, I’m like flabbergasted.

He doesn’t know what restricting my diet can do. Deprivation is an on ramp to the binge highway of hell. My goal has always been to eat like a normal person. People do eat brownies. They eat one… one now and maybe one later. It’s okay. They don’t wait and sneak a brownie when their man is gone, then freak out, eat the rest and bake another pan, then eat it down to exactly where it was before they removed the first brownie just so it looks untouched when he comes home. I am so NOT going to go there, so this policing the brownie shit has to stop.

Yes, I did ask him to be okay with me saying no to food now and then… like if he’s hungry and I’m not, don’t be upset with me if I opt not to eat. Or, when he fries four pieces of chicken for two people, be okay if I only want one… it doesn’t mean I don’t like it, just means I only want one. That’s what I meant by asking him to help me… I don’t want nor need anyone policing my food.

This may sound goofy, but it is a serious problem.

Since the brownie incident, I catch myself wanting to buy things that I can hide and eat in secret so he won’t know about it. Not necessarily bad things… raisins and nuts, like a frikkin squirrel. That’s really stupid. I can’t do this. I have to be free to eat like normal people.

I tried to talk to him about binge eating disorder but he related what I was saying to his own “sweet tooth” and it was obvious that he doesn’t get it, has no clue on how insane the behavior can get. It’s like trying to explain depression to someone who will tell you to just shake off the blues.

Thanks for reading!

Early Spring?

Youngstown’s own Marty Marmion opted not to venture out of the snuggly warm burrow under the addition on the back of my house today, as evident by the lack of prints on the snow dusted patio.

Had he (or she) ventured out to participate in the annual ground hog prediction celebration, odds are that this particular young rodent would not have cast a shadow as the morning skies were cloudy and even though the sun was shining bright by late afternoon, the patio was shaded. 

Does this mean an early Spring for Youngstown, Ohio?

Well, I don’t know. Has anyone heard from Mid Millie down on Midlothian Blvd.?

Either way, Spring is on the way, winter has crossed the halfway point and that, dear friends, is why Ground Hog’s Day is my favorite holiday. 

Hail the Walrus

My personal opinion of the new POTUS as a human being can be summed into one word: despicable.

I almost feel sorry for his wife, as news clips and photos snapped on inauguration day revealed his lack of gentlemanly respect for his own spouse, but… she picked him. Same goes for this country. The voters, by the electoral college, picked him.

Time to come together as a nation, yadda-yadda… bull.

Sorry, I’m not ready to hold hands and sing Kumbaya… Trump ran on a campaign of hate and division, which sparked miniature civil wars between friends and within families. No, I am not one of those liberals crying because Hillary lost. I’m just dealing with emboldened idiots (including relatives) posting blatantly racist celebratory nonsense.

Did I ever mention Walrus men?

One of my observations from working in skilled trades for a global corporation was how the weathered old union men would stand shoulder to shoulder in solidarity across the back of the room, waiting and listening with arms crossed, as a company man up on stage painted another picture of the future. They reminded me of unmovable Walruses.

I am like one of those walrus men, waiting and watching, skeptical of what will come in the Trump administration. So far, it is not good. Thank God for term limits.

Thanks for reading.